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Bad News in Bogotá
For All Nails #145: Bad News in Bogotá by Johnny Pez and Noel Maurer ---- :Royal Palace, Bogotá, Kingdom of New Granada :26 December 1974 Bogotá had some of the most scenic vistas that King Fernando had ever seen, and the city's high elevation made for a surprisingly temperate climate for such a tropical location. The only drawback to living there was that the city was rather isolated. As soon as the CNA placed a communications satellite in a stationary Blake orbit, FN1 Fernando had set up a dish atop the Royal Palace that allowed him to receive its transmissions. As a result, he had access to live newsfeed from Bali after Colonel Mercator set off his hell bomb there. As Fernando sat and watched the horrifying images, he thanked God for Sophia. Holding her hand was like holding onto a lifeline after a shipwreck. The shock had caused her to lose every scrap of the Spanish she had acquired since July. She sat beside him, silent except for an occasional "My God" in English. "Fernando," she finally asked, "what kind of man could do such a thing? What kind of man is this Mercator?" "He is a madman," said Fernando. "He has become obsessed with Kramer Associates until the desire to destroy them has consumed him. He has forfeited his soul for the sake of revenge." There was a knock on the door, and Arturo, the palace chamberlain, entered. "Sire," he said, "the Prime Minister wishes an interview." "Is he here?" asked Fernando. His wife looked at him with mild, very mild, surprise. Alexander never came to the private wing of the palace. FN2 "No, Sire," said the chamberlain. "He asks that you come to his office." "Not the Privy Council chamber?" asked the King. "No, Sire." Fernando nodded. "Tell him I'll be there directly." He looked at his wife. "It sounds like the Prime Minister wants to talk to me alone. Something's not right." His wife gestured silently at the vita. "I concede your point." He stood up. "It still seems odd." As he moved to leave, his wife said, quite naturally, "I'm coming with you." "Excuse me?" replied the King of New Granada, the keeper of Hispanidad, the sovereign of Spanish culture. "You heard me, Ferdi. I'm going with you." "Uh, Sophia, that's not ... " She cut him off. "Neither is a private audience with the Prime Minister." Although he had been married less than three months, Fernando had already learned the secret to matrimonial harmony. "I see your point. I would be pleased to have you with me, though I should point out that Alexander might not." "We'll deal with that when we get to it," Sophia said confidently. Smiling mischievously, he added, "And assuming your Spanish is up to the task." "My Spanish is just fine, please," she answered in Spanish. The Queen gathered up her dress and took her husband's arm. They strode out into the hall, the chamberlain leading the way down the corridors to the public part of the Palace. The hallways were well-lit and friendly, decorated with avant-garde art from New Granada, Great Britain, and Spain. FN3 At least the palace was friendly until they moved through a pair of heavy oaken doors into the misleadingly named "public" part of the palace. There was nothing public about it, at least not in the Mexican sense of the word. Rather, it was "public" in the sense of being where the Kingdom's "asuntos publicos," what a Mexican would have called "affairs of state," were conducted. The public part of the palace was utilitarian and drab, resembing a military frontier post more than the nerve center of an expanding empire. Ferdi had remarked to Sophia that he had finally found the limits of Elbittar's Anglophilia. She responded by reminding him about the inadequacy of the Halls of Parliament, and the modesty of the British prime minister's residence, and he had realized that the dull gray businesslike nature of the "public" palace was just a New Granadan translation of that very British modesty. They entered Elbittar's office through a simple pine door. The office itself maintained the Spartan style. At the far end was a plain wooden desk with the usual office accessories atop it, as well as a small frame holding photographs of the Prime Minister's wife and children. Facing the desk were two simple chairs with padded seats and backs, resting on a dark blue carpet. One wall displayed a framed photograph of Fernando himself; the other wall held a large map of the world. In a day full of surprises, the greatest surprise was the change in Elbittar. The self-assured, supremely confident man of affairs who had transformed New Granada from a Mexican puppet to an independent constitutional monarchy was ... different. Fernando sought a word to properly describe Elbittar. "Subdued" came close, but suddenly the word "worried" suggested itself. Fernando had never seen Elbittar worried about anything, ever. Elbittar waved them in. There was something almost absent-minded about the motion. He didn't even seem to notice that Sophia was with the young King. This was not the crisp ex-colonel Fernando was accustomed to dealing with. "Sit." There was something equally un-Elbittar-like about the curt invitation; normally the Prime Minister maintained what he considered a properly respectful formality in his relations with his monarch. It was a small thing, but Fernando felt that it spoke volumes about Elbittar's unsettled state of mind. He and Sophia sat on the padded chairs, while Elbittar stood beside the desk. "Your Majesty," he said, "we have a problem." "Prime Minister?" "Sire," said Elbittar in a low calm voice, "I need advice. You are the only member of the Council with no hidden agenda, the only man I can trust, so you are the man I must turn to for advice." For a moment, Fernando was struck by the irony of the situation. Traditionally, it was the monarch who asked for the prime minister's advice (at least in theory). However, despite Elbittar's best efforts, there was little that was traditional about the revived Neogranadan monarchy. "You know that I am always ready to serve my new homeland any way I can." "Yes, Your Majesty, I am aware of that. You have been an exemplary monarch." Elbittar seemed to draw some comfort from the thought. He continued, "I fear that Colonel Mercator's recent strike against Kramer Associates may have unfortunate consequences for New Granada." "What sort of consequences?" asked Fernando. Elbittar spoke slowly, clearly choosing his words with care. "We may find ourselves facing a certain amount of ... hostility ... from certain quarters, if it becomes generally known that Colonel Mercator built his bombs here." It took a moment for Fernando to understand what Elbittar was saying. "Mercator built his hell bombs here? Here, in New Granada? Mother of God, Alexander, what could have possessed you to allow such a thing?" Elbittar spoke calmly, far too calmly for Fernando's peace of mind. "You fail to appreciate the situation, Your Majesty. You would not be here right now were it not for Mercator. Nor would I." He paused a moment, then began to pace back and forth in front of them as he spoke. "It was right before the coup," he said, "right before we removed the President. Augusto and his family were destroying our country, draining the life from it. We knew what we had to do, but we did not have the resources we needed to do it ourselves. We needed help, and he gave us help. Supplies, ships, airmobiles. Weapons." His voice was almost a monotone. "And in return, he wished a secure place in which to finish his work. Someplace where that worthless whore of a Mexican President would not be able to stop him. We agreed that he would be given the use of Camp Adolfo Camacho." He came to a halt beneath the map. Fernando absently noticed an odd detail: the map's national boundaries were those of the 18th century. "And this is why I have asked you here," said the Prime Minister. "While I can certainly understand Mercator's desire to strike back against El Pulpo, his use of the bombs places us in an awkward position. What sort of reaction can we expect from the other nations of the world?" "For one thing," said Sophia, "this means the end of your alliance with the United Empire." Fernando thought at first that Elbittar would simply ignore Sophia. However, the British alliance was too important to the Prime Minister's plans for him to let such a statement go unanswered. Finally he said, "I fail to see why Sir Geoffrey Gold would be so intemperate as to end our alliance." The couple exchanged incredulous glances. Could the Prime Minister really be that oblivious to geopolitics? "When you agreed to the alliance with the United Empire," Sophia explained, "you were committing New Granada to a place within a larger structure. Why do you think Sir Geoffrey was so eager for this alliance? Ever since he came to power, he's been pursuing what he calls his 'Grand Alliance' against Germany and Mexico. He's allied Britain with the Canton Pact, with the Victorians, even with the Scandinavians." Rolling her eyes, she added, "He'd like to bring in the North Americans as well, but getting them to sign a mutual defense treaty is like pulling teeth." Fixing Elbittar in her gaze again, she concluded, "So when you deposed the Hermións and took New Granada out of the Mexican bloc, Sir Geoffrey offered a treaty with you as well. And you accepted. Now you are part of his Grand Alliance, along with Kramer Associates. When it becomes known that you were assisting Mercator, Sir Geoffrey will regard that as an act of bad faith on your part, and will feel justified in abrogating the treaty." Fernando noticed that his wife had said "when" and not "if". He wondered if Elbittar had noticed as well. The Prime Minister seemed stunned. "We are allies with Kramer? With El Pulpo?" "Of course," said Sophia. The Prime Minister shook his head. "You do not understand how Kramer is regarded within the Hispanidad," he said to her. "We call it El Pulpo, the octopus. Its tentacles are everywhere, strangling local merchants, monopolizing markets, enslaving all who come within its reach. FN4 There are many in Latin America who feel that Mercator deserves our thanks for striking a blow against them." It was obvious that Elbittar himself thought so. "That is not how the other nations will see it," said Fernando. "What they will see is that a madman has just committed a terrible crime, murdering tens of thousands of innocent people. When it becomes known that New Granada has been aiding him in his monstrous schemes, the whole world will regard us as his accomplices. They will certainly suspect us of harboring him, and they will demand that he be turned over to them." Fernando paused as a terrible surmise filled his mind. "Prime Minister, are we harboring him?" "I do not believe so," said Elbittar. "You do not believe so?" said Fernando incredulously. "Don't you know?" Now Elbittar seemed unsure of himself. Perhaps the enormity of New Granada's situation was finally sinking in. "I do not believe so, but it has been some time since I was last in Ciudad Camacho. He might be. I don't know." Fernando nodded. "The first thing we must do, then, is make certain that Mercator is not in Ciudad Camacho. We must travel to this," he spoke the words with distaste, "bomb factory at Camp Adolfo Camacho and see to it that it is secure. After that ..." Fernando shook his head. "We must begin what the North Americans call 'damage control'. Assuming that the damage that has been done can be controlled." Fernando looked out the window of the Prime Minister's office at the teeming city spread out beyond. "If it cannot be controlled, I fear that Bogotá may suffer the same fate as Bali." ---- Forward to FAN #146 (26 December 1974): Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown). Return to For All Nails. Category:American War Category:New Granada